Supermaxx

Ultimate One Universe: Season Two

E-Sports Team - Overwatch

Choo choo. Hype train coming through

E-Sports Team - Overwatch

Well, this is weird. Count me in. Prolly gonna snag up flex so I can feel special

The real question tho, is Brigitte an off tank or a secondary healer, or some nifty combo of both?

@ilovepapa

Haven't kept up with OWL this season as much as I used to, but from my understanding Brig is mostly used in 3 healer/3 tank comps called GOATS. Fun fact: it looks completely terrible to play against :^)

Superboy's Shitty Characters

Silent Night, Holy Night #4

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Metropolis, Delaware - Hob's Bay

Jaime Reyes put his hands on his head, doing his best to slow the rapid beat of his heart. Both of his friends were gone, and he hadn't a clue where they'd went. He was stuck in the middle of a stinking set of old warehouses in the dark, and the only person with him was a metahuman that had just been attempting to slice him into ribbons not but a few minutes ago.

'As shitty situations go, it doesn't get much worse than this.' He thought, his expression twisting as he tried to work himself out of his current mood. Needed to be focused now. Needed to stay calm if he wanted to figure this all out.

"Right." He finally breathed, letting his hands drop away from his head and down to his sides. He turned about, facing the young Asian woman draped in shadow. Something about the darkness that hugged against her form reminded Jaime of that monster Caulder ran around with- Warp. It unsettled him enough that Reyes decided to divert his eyes while he spoke to her.

"You didn't touch 'em, and I...believe you." There wasn't much to be gained by pressing her. Reyes could tell from the way she spoke that she was telling the truth; besides, if he couldn't trust her, Jaime would find himself truly alone. And that thought...sort of terrified him at the moment. "But then where on God's green earth did they run off to? And why?" It wasn't like Paco or Brenda to just bolt the moment things went south. Well. Maybe it made sense for Paco to run, the little coward, but Brenda would've tried to take a pipe to the Silver Surfer's head if she was at the Raft.

The other woman was in far worse shape than he was. Her hands were shaking with a violent and uncontrollable terror, and sweat was trickling down every contour of her face. She was throwing her head around in every direction like she was trying to find something in the dark. Just seeing her like that was nearly enough to unnerve Jaime even worse than he already was.

Reyes hesitated before deciding to move closer to her, his hands held out to take her arms as gently as he could. "Hey," He whispered, trying to keep his own voice in check so he didn't make matters worse. "You're okay, we'll figure this out. Like I said before, I'm not gonna hurt you. What's...what's your name?" Distracting her from whatever it was she was scared of sounded like a good idea to him. He couldn't be sure why she was so worked up, aside from the fact they'd nearly killed each other not that long ago.

"Sil." She muttered after a few seconds of thought, her eyes slipping away from her surroundings and locking on Jaime's. "My name's Sil. And it's... it's not you I'm afraid of."

His brow furrowed. "The 'other one' you mentioned?" He asked. Part of him knew what she meant, but the rest of him didn't want to believe it. He wanted her to say no, as unlikely as it would be. "Another one...like...me?"

"Yes." Sil nodded. "Like you, but worse. So...so much worse."

There was no other logical conclusion for Reyes to come to, but he decided in a split second that he'd deny it for as long as he could. "We need to get out of here." He hurriedly moved on, drowning the lingering doubt with something so much more simple: survival. Escape. "We'll...we'll figure something out once we're safe."

She nodded again, remaining silent as she reluctantly pulled away from Reyes. Despite the darkness that clung around them, some unknown enemy hiding under its shadow, they had to get moving; remaining here was a death sentence. The two started to make their way back toward the van, Jaime fighting back the urge to vomit as his mind lingered on the fates of his missing friends. He had to believe they were okay, that they'd...ran or-...or something-

Jaime was halfway through opening the driver side door when the lights went out.

Not just in the van, but everywhere. Every single street lamp in sight, every headlight in the distance, even the apartments hanging in the background went dark. He practically threw his head inside to check that even the screen on the cellphone he'd left on his seat was pitch black. "What the hell-"

"I'm sorry." Sil called from somewhere in that mess of black, her voice shaken and uncertain. "I- I'm sorry about your friends, but I can't...can't be out like this. I need to stay in the dark." Her voice grew softer now. Jaime couldn't tell if she was lowering it, or if she was just getting further away. "Its the only place that's safe."

"Wait, you can't- damn it, I need you!" Reyes roared in frustration, climbing back out of the van in a vain attempt to find her again. She couldn't do this to him. She was the whole reason he was here, the whole reason his body felt like it'd been dragged through a bed of nails, and she was the reason he wasn't around to protect Brenda and Paco-

This wasn't fair.

"I'm sorry. I've already spent too much time in the open. I'm...I'm sorry." Sil apologized again, and again, her voice little more than a distant, whispy echo now. "Someone else can help you. Not me. Can't be me."

She was abandoning him. She was the only one that could help him find the alien- that even knew anything about the damn thing- and she was just...just leaving. It made Jaime's stomach curl up with a blind rage as he raced out into lines upon lines of identical warehouses. "Sil!" He called out. "Get back here, damn it, SIL!"

"He's here-"

Something struck Reyes in the chest with more force than he'd ever felt in his life. Armor buckled like it was made of tin foil, and he felt his feet leave the asphalt before he even knew what was happening. An explosion of noise struck his ears a moment later, rattling around in his skull like a clap of thunder even as he hit the ground again.

Jaime let out a pained cry, though he couldn't hear it over the ringing in his ears. He gripped the sides of his helmet, trying desperately to cover the ears he couldn't get to. Panic built up in his chest like water against a dam, threatening to make his insides burst. Something hot, wet and sticky was running down his bare abdomen.

"Dios...mío..." He groaned, the sound of his own voice finally peeking through the ringing. Heavy hands moved to the ground, pushing against it to raise himself up into a sitting position. It was a slow and arduous work to fight against the heaving agony in his chest, but once he'd gotten there, Reyes found that he could finally see again. The darkness Sil had created had was now awash with that dim light it had tried to snuff out.

The light Reyes needed to see the gargantuan figure that towered over him.

Though he was barely off of his back, Jaime could tell in an instant he was nearly two feet shorter than the monstrosity standing before him. Its sheer size was wholly unnatural, with shoulders twice as wide as any normal man's should've been, and arms thick with sinew like steel cables. With titanic form draped in the natural darkness of the night, it was hard for Reyes to make out whatever this thing was, but even then he was barely looking at it now. No, his gaze was zeroed in on the other, much smaller, and much more familiar shape that it held aloft.

"...Sil..." Reyes croaked, staring with widened, bloodshot eyes at the claw-like hand wrapped around her throat. The fingers were so tight that Sil's skin underneath and around them was turning a strange shade of palish purple. She was fighting to take in tiny gasps of air, each one faster, weaker and, more horrific than the last. She was pawing at the hand, unable to do so much as wrap them around the giant's fingers.

"Did I hurt you, little brother?" Its voice was warm and silky, booming with a contradictory softness and power that rolled together with disturbing charm. It was the kind of voice Jaime would've expected to come from an actor. "I'm so very sorry. Sometimes I forget my own strength." It- he- laughed. A jolly thing, like he didn't have a care in the world.

This monstrous thing, this grotesque display of a living being, turned to look at Jaime now. And he saw his own face. Not his, exactly, but that of the armor. A shiny, black carapace wrapped tightly about a form bursting with strength and sheer mass, that distinctive, almost insect-like armor almost completely identical to Reyes's. The only difference was the mouth. It was grinning. The armor's faceplate was smiling at him. Even worse, it started to move a second later.

"I know you were close to taking this kill, but I've been tracking this one for weeks now!" He chuckled again, turning those glowing, golden eyes toward the girl he was suffocating the life out of. He had he held up by the throat, staring up into her tear-soaked eyes. Her brown orbs met his, the two holding one another's gaze for several seconds. There was so much fear reflecting in hers. So much terror.

Sil was disturbed by what she saw looking back at her. For all that this monster had done to her, for all the harm it had caused and intended for her, she expected to see sadism or cruelty reflected in those golden slits. Or, perhaps, just the cold, uncaring stare of a lifeless mask. But all she saw there was a flash of pity.

"You put up a good fight." He assured her quietly. "I'll make it quick."

"NO!" Reyes roared so loud it burned his throat. He reached inside of himself, ignoring all of the pain he was in to bring up his arm and lower it toward the black giant's chest. He tried to will his plasma cannon to slip over his arm, expecting that same, usual heat to fill his hand. But it didn't come. Panic practically bursting from his throat, he called out for the Scarab's help. "Khaji- cannon, now!"

But it didn't come.

Khaji Da was still silent.

The other alien was turned fully toward Jaime now, a look of bewilderment on his face. "What are you doing?" He asked, his lips creasing down into a questioning frown as his gaze narrowed on the arm held up toward him. It didn't make any sense. "I don't...understand, little brother." He started toward Reyes, his boots sounding with an audible impact that came with each footfall. There was no hostility in his posture, even as the alien lowered Sil's shaking form and dangled her by his side like she was little more than a doll. "Are you trying to shoot me?"

"Let her- let her go." Jaime ordered once more, the force in his voice greatly diminished as he brought his arm slowly back down to the snow-slicked asphalt underneath of him. "This is between you...and me." Even though Reyes didn't know what the hell this was. He didn't know how the alien was going to react when Jaime tracked it down, he was even preparing for a fight- but this was just about the last thing he expected. It had come to him. And it sounded so...

Human.

Hearing Reyes's words caused the alien pause. His exoskeletal face shifted with shock and confusion, his glowing gaze zipping between Jaime's faceplate and the metahuman he was practically dragging along the ground. "You don't know?" He asked incredulously. "You don't know what THIS is?" He suddenly shifted forward, lowering himself down so that he and Jaime were uncomfortably close. Sil was brought around, still struggling just to remain semi-conscious as the monster turned her paling, sickly face toward Jaime. "Oh Little brother. Oh, by the Reach, little brother, you truly don't know." Sadness etched itself into the words of the hulking, inhuman beast with a metal face that bent and moved in the most unnatural of ways.

Jaime took several, ragged breaths, his eyes tightening with rage underneath his mask. It took a great deal of self-control to keep from lashing out at the second beetle as he tossed a person around and spoke of her like she was little more than a rodent to be disposed of. "I don't know...what the hell is wrong with you..." Jaime started, trying to push himself to his feet. It took an extraordinary amount of effort, one of his hands taking hold of a nearby trash can for leverage while the other stuck an accusatory finger up toward the towering monster. "But you're gonna put her down," he snarled, glancing down at Sil, unsure how long she had left. "You're gonna tell me what you did to my friends," His eyes snapped right back up to the larger alien's, matching his gaze with all of the courage he could muster. "-And then you're gonna explain all of the mierda coming out of your mouth since you tried to punch a hole in my chest."

For several moments, the Alpha was silent. He stood aloft in the cold, winter night, his head turned upwards toward the night sky. The light pollution from Metropolis's towering skyscrapers all but blotted out the stars above, but it didn't stop the alien from staring while he thought. After a moment he sighed and looked back to Jaime...

A smile on his metal face as he tried to suppress a chuckle. "I'm sorry, little brother, I know you're serious. But all of these words coming out of your mouth- I cannot take them seriously! You speak like you're one of these primates and not-"

Jaime Reyes shot a closed fist into the Alpha's jaw. He felt his knuckles nearly buckle when the momentous force of his punch was transferred from his extended arm up into the metallic skull of the alien, the power enough to make the behemoth's head snap backward with an audible thwack. The skin underneath Jaime's gauntlet rippled and tore at the blow as the sinew, muscle, and bone it covered screamed out in agony, unsure how their owner had managed to harm them so.

The screaming in his bones was a mere whimper compared to the indignant cry on Reyes's lips. Adrenaline rushed through his body as he threw his other arm forward, letting it impact against his counterpart's abdomen with force equal to or perhaps even greater than the first blow he'd thrown. It slammed into place with an ear-pounding thump, the carapace it struck contorting and bending on contact. He wheeled the first fist around again, bringing it back into the Alpha's cheek, a satisfying crunch following the quick, wild blow. Again and again and again, the boy continued to fire off a flurry of haymakers that made his enemy stumble and backpedal with each landed hit. He cried out, his pent-up rage finally released from deep within his stomach as he poured it all into his assault.

Three months.

Three months of running. Of hiding. Of ignoring the cries for help. Of turning the other cheek. Of 'letting the police handle it.' Three months of holding the power of an atom bomb in his hand yet never being able to use it for anything. Three months of running around like a cockroach, avoiding the light, terrified of doing so much as helping someone that needed him.

Three months of mounting uselessness and anger all channeled into eight bloodied knuckles and his burning lungs and throat as he let it all out.

"Where's Caulder?!" Jaime raged, bits of black fluid and chunks of carapace flying passed his face. "Where's Brenda?! Paco?!" He cried, spittle crashing against the front of his mask as he poured his rage into every bone-shattering attack. "Where's all that FIGHT you had a couple seconds ago?!" He was exhausted. Aching. All of the cuts Sil had given him and the suit had repaired had already torn open again, the scar tissue flooded with blood and energy rapidly leaving Jaime's body with every passing moment. He ignored it. "Come on! Keep talkin'!" Exhaustion rocked his whole system, yet he kept flinging punch after punch after punch, blinded by the whirlwind of emotion that had overtaken him. "Call me a monkey again you fat, ugly piece of-"

A palm found its way onto Jaime's face, ten sharp digits digging into his helmet as the Alpha picked up Reyes by his head. "Silence, boy." He whispered, his voice barely heard above Jaime's screaming. The rage was replaced in an instant by pain. Nothing but howling pain. He was squeezing down on Jaime's head with enough force to crumble away parts of the helmet, revealing tufts of black, sweat-soaked hair and tanned flesh underneath. "Such outbursts do not suit a member of our species. Not to mention the deplorables you'll attract with that... inane screeching."

Not but a moment later, the sound of distant sirens echoed through the nearby streets. Whether they were meant for the docks or not, Jaime couldn't know; but he could barely keep his eyes open at the moment, let alone determine something like that.

"Hrmph. Of course." The alpha muttered, equally annoyed as he was frustrated. "A disappointing first meeting, little brother, I must admit. I expected more from you. Your reputation among the primates is...ill-placed, I fear. Still. You are my brother. I am obliged by our code to teach you." He sighed. "I will return for you when the trials are prepared. In the meantime..." He turned his eyes toward the water of the bay, the light of the moon glistening over its surface. "Why don't you cool off?"

With a mere flick of his wrist, the Alpha beetle sent his younger counterpart soaring through the air toward the icy depths. The last image his little brother saw before being submerged in the winter waters was the Black Beetle turning away, the unconscious metahuman known as Sil slung over his shoulder as he receded into the darkest corners of the City of Tomorrow.

Shuffle your music player and post the first 10 songs

1. G. YAMAZAWA - North Cack
2. Pentakill - Thornmail
3. Rise Against - A Gentleman's Coup
4. Tokoyo Ghoul opening but its a Jonathan Young cover - UNRAVEL
5. The.I.Jester - UnderWater
6. Disturbed - Tyrant
7. Blue Oyster Cult - (Don't Fear) The Reaper
8. Hasley - Gasoline
9. Rag'N'Bone Man - Hell Yeah
10. Måns Zelmerlöw - Heroes

Ultimate One Universe: Season Two

Gotta get my post up tomorrow, but I just want you all to know that @Lord Wraith is a big ol' ding dong.

Ultimate One Universe: Season Two

Well, got some good news and some bad news. I'll start with the bad, since that leads into the good.

The bad news is that, for reasons I cannot fully comprehend or nail down, the tank on my tenure as Batman has run on empty. After a number of false starts and an attempt to drum up another one that would have maybe give me another two weeks of struggling, only to realize what I was doing and taking a long hard look at myself, I've regretfully decided that my only logical move from here is to drop the character.

Not for lack of ideas, as I had a metric ton of them to take me through this season and beyond, but for lack of being able to do them justice in my current state. I'm still as passionate as ever about the character, but not as passionate as I was about writing him. Even the few posts I got in this season were a strain for me to come up with, despite a fully written outline and a whole new status quo to play with.

The good news is that I love the community here so much and am proud enough of the work put into it not to leave the RPG. As a GM or as a player. So while I may be done with The Dark Knight for the time being, perhaps you can expect a new application from me...

I'll weigh out my options and see what I can come up with.

In the meantime, I'll leave it up to the rest of you to decide who'll take up the cowl in my stead. I won't lie and say that my interest won't likely resume at some point down the line, when the inner fog has cleared, but I also know that Bats is bigger than me. So whoever wants to do the honors, I encourage you to make it yours.

@Master Bruce

Ultimate One Universe: Season Two

mfw we lose Byrd Man and Uni in the same week

Star Wars: The Beat (closed)

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Op. No. KY-9914; Pvt. Malik Skaya
121st Battalion, Bravo Company, 1st Platoon, 1st Squad
Lothor Minor | Planetfall - Contact
APPROX. 1200HRS; 5 BBY

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The rear of the Lambda shook as it broke through Lothor Minor's atmosphere. Malik Skaya wrapped his fingers tighter around his E-11, his gaze kept firmly on the floor as he counted down the seconds until they made planetfall. The nerves he'd gotten simply entering the shuttle returned now, the prospect of rushing into a volley of blaster fire made his blood boil with anticipation and anxiety. Violence and bloodshed had plagued Aquellan culture since its dawn. It was bred into each and every one of them at birth; those who refused to fight were seen as oddities at best and damned cowards at worst.

Skaya had spent every day in the Corps proving again and again that he was the warrior his people expected him to be. This was just another chance to prove his mettle one more time.

A panicked voice drowning in static screamed out from the cockpit. Skaya was too far from that side of the shuttle to understand it, but the tone in the pilot's voice and the way the sergeant spun around made the medic's heart jump into his throat. 'Contact? Already?' He wondered, only for the enemy to confirm his suspicions by firing upon the shuttle. The entire vehicle gave a sudden and savage lurch, throwing the sergeant to the ground and slamming Malik's head forward. He would've gone tumbling out of his seat if not for the restraining straps that dug into his shoulders between the gaps in his armor plating.

"Zina." He cursed under his breath, clutching his service weapon to his chest like it was his only lifeline in the middle of a storm. That rifle was the only damn thing Malik knew he could rely on. It was the only thing that would keep him alive once that lift fell and he went dashing headfirst into enemy laser fire. Everything else was just noise. Screeching, violent noise as he counted down the agonizing seconds until the fighting began- or they were blown out of the sky before he ever got the chance to fire off a shot.

The shuttle touched down, crushing a mass of trash underneath its weight, the ramp beginning to fall but a moment later. Skaya unhooked his straps in one, quick motion, rising out of his seat to the tune of the devil's piano that the enemy was using to pepper their transport. A thick, noxious fog rammed against Malik's nostrils as he filed out behind Sergeant Vytuia, adrenaline racing through his system as he mentally steeled himself for what came next.

A flurry of heat passed mere inches from his head, the blaster bolt striking against the hull of the shuttle directly above him. Vytuia's voice played in his ear through his helmet's built-in radio even as Skaya made his mad dash for cover. A large, flat piece of metal half-buried in a mountain of junk looked to be his best bet. It was was one of the wings of a long defunct TIE Fighter, he guessed; not that where it came from mattered as much as its ability to absorb enemy fire. Malik slammed his shoulder up against the broken wing, several more blaster bolts flying passed him just as he disappeared behind it.

His first task was to crouch and peek, hoping to get a decent lay of the land before he decided the best course of action for taking the top of that hill. The first thing he noted was just how damned hard it was to pick out the natives from the terrain. They wore the same, drab browns and dirty grays that made up the junk and rock of Lothor Minor, allowing them to blend in even when they stood in plain view. There could be anywhere from five to twenty-five of them just on this hill and Skaya wouldn't know until they started shooting. The second thing he noted was just how aggressive they were. Even now, two of the bastards were running right at them with near-suicidal intent, like their lives didn't matter. Fanatacism, maybe? Or desperation?

Malik slid his scope up in front of his face, dragging it along the hillside. He counted out each individual muzzle flash he noticed, tallying them all up before moving the scope back over and double-checking his math. He popped up a shot whenever he thought he had a chance to land it, the E-11's stock smacking up against his shoulder with each gentle press of the trigger. Malik was no marksman, however, and the extraneous conditions on the field made his aim...questionable. "I count eight in total, including the gunner-" He started to speak over the comm, only for a blaster shot to fly right past his head and force him to duck into cover to avoid decapitation. That one came from somewhere else entirely. "Nine! Make that nine!"

Superboy's Shitty Characters

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Op. No. KY-9914; Pvt. Malik Skaya
121st Battalion, Bravo Company, 1st Platoon, 1st Squad
Lothor Minor | Planetfall - Contact
APPROX. 1200HRS; 5 BBY

---

The rear of the Lambda shook as it broke through Lothor Minor's atmosphere. Malik Skaya wrapped his fingers tighter around his E-11, his gaze kept firmly on the floor as he counted down the seconds until they made planetfall. The nerves he'd gotten simply entering the shuttle returned now, the prospect of rushing into a volley of blaster fire made his blood boil with anticipation and anxiety. Violence and bloodshed had plagued Aquellan culture since its dawn. It was bred into each and every one of them at birth; those who refused to fight were seen as oddities at best and damned cowards at worst.

Skaya had spent every day in the Corps proving again and again that he was the warrior his people expected him to be. This was just another chance to prove his mettle one more time.

A panicked voice drowning in static screamed out from the cockpit. Skaya was too far from that side of the shuttle to understand it, but the tone in the pilot's voice and the way the sergeant spun around made the medic's heart jump into his throat. 'Contact? Already?' He wondered, only for the enemy to confirm his suspicions by firing upon the shuttle. The entire vehicle gave a sudden and savage lurch, throwing the sergeant to the ground and slamming Malik's head forward. He would've gone tumbling out of his seat if not for the restraining straps that dug into his shoulders between the gaps in his armor plating.

"Zina." He cursed under his breath, clutching his service weapon to his chest like it was his only lifeline in the middle of a storm. That rifle was the only damn thing Malik knew he could rely on. It was the only thing that would keep him alive once that lift fell and he went dashing headfirst into enemy laser fire. Everything else was just noise. Screeching, violent noise as he counted down the agonizing seconds until the fighting began- or they were blown out of the sky before he ever got the chance to fire off a shot.

The shuttle touched down, crushing a mass of trash underneath its weight, the ramp beginning to fall but a moment later. Skaya unhooked his straps in one, quick motion, rising out of his seat to the tune of the devil's piano that the enemy was using to pepper their transport. A thick, noxious fog rammed against Malik's nostrils as he filed out behind Sergeant Vytuia, adrenaline racing through his system as he mentally steeled himself for what came next.

A flurry of heat passed mere inches from his head, the blaster bolt striking against the hull of the shuttle directly above him. Vytuia's voice played in his ear through his helmet's built-in radio even as Skaya made his mad dash for cover. A large, flat piece of metal half-buried in a mountain of junk looked to be his best bet. It was was one of the wings of a long defunct TIE Fighter, he guessed; not that where it came from mattered as much as its ability to absorb enemy fire. Malik slammed his shoulder up against the broken wing, several more blaster bolts flying passed him just as he disappeared behind it.

His first task was to crouch and peek, hoping to get a decent lay of the land before he decided the best course of action for taking the top of that hill. The first thing he noted was just how damned hard it was to pick out the natives from the terrain. They wore the same, drab browns and dirty grays that made up the junk and rock of Lothor Minor, allowing them to blend in even when they stood in plain view. There could be anywhere from five to twenty-five of them just on this hill and Skaya wouldn't know until they started shooting. The second thing he noted was just how aggressive they were. Even now, two of the bastards were running right at them with near-suicidal intent, like their lives didn't matter. Fanatacism, maybe? Or desperation?

Malik slid his scope up in front of his face, dragging it along the hillside. He counted out each individual muzzle flash he noticed, tallying them all up before moving the scope back over and double-checking his math. He popped up a shot whenever he thought he had a chance to land it, the E-11's stock smacking up against his shoulder with each gentle press of the trigger. Malik was no marksman, however, and the extraneous conditions on the field made his aim...questionable. "I count eight in total, including the gunner-" He started to speak over the comm, only for a blaster shot to fly right past his head and force him to duck into cover to avoid decapitation. That one came from somewhere else entirely. "Nine! Make that nine!"